A FIFA15 player was incandescent with rage after succumbing to a 3-0 defeat at the hands of his former best friend. Barry Turtlehead, 19, of Preston was playing as Paris Saint Germain against his friend David Carpet, manning the helm of Manchester United.

“This was bullshit from start to finish”, fumed a disconsolate Turtlehead. “Straight off the bat the players just didn’t want to score”.

Zlatan Ibrahimovic had already tested Barry’s patience by hitting the post and ballooning an absolute sitter by the time he was scythed down just outside the penalty area on 31 minutes by Michael Carrick, forcing him off with an ankle injury. “Dave only selected Carrick ‘cos he knows I hate him, and then he crocks my best striker, the toss pot”.

Cavani was subbed on, but the resulting free kick was also a naff effort, tamely hitting the wall and triggering a counter attack which resulted in a Manchester United corner. “So Thiago Silva’s marking Schweinsteiger in the middle and beats him to the ball but heads it against Sideshow Bob’s bloody afro and it goes in for an own-goal. Absolute piss take”.

With the score just 1-0 at half time, ‘Turts’, as he is known to his mates, still felt confident he could get back into it, even slyly switching his team mentality to ‘Attacking’ while Carpet went to get another beer. However, the PSG players’ abject profligacy in front of goal continued after the interval, much to his dismay.

“I couldn’t believe what I was seeing”, Turts recounted, disbelievingly. “An inch-perfect through ball from Pastore to Cavani and he has the first touch of a constipated elephant. Di Maria’s blatantly having his shirt tugged by Blind and the ref does nothing. I lost count of the misses, bad decisions, wayward passes”.

Barry, convinced that the game itself had made a conscious decision to make him lose, asked with desperation, “What can I do as a player? I get the guys into great goal scoring situations and I aim and shoot. It is then up to the game to decide whether that ball misses or not. Not me. I did all I could. The GAME didn’t want me to win. Simple as.”

To compound his misery, Dave then engineered a red card for Serge Aurier for a trip in the box, converting the resulting spot kick with none other than Michael Carrick. United’s third goal came on the counter in the dying moments of the game after PSG had been switched to ‘All-Out Attack’. The second Rooney had side-stepped the on-rushing Kevin Trapp, Turtlehead was seen to drop the controller and remark, “Well I’m not even playing any more so well done”.

Summing up his experience, the 19-year old was unrelenting in his criticism of his opponent. “I’m not having that. What a waste of time. He didn’t have to do the Suarez brick-fall dive celebration after every goal either. He’s a dick. I’m never playing him again.”

Saturday 12th September, 2015. Remember where you were, people. Most already do. Depending on their political persuasion, they have either emblazoned the date that Jeremy Corbyn became Labour Leader in their psyche as the day that Socialist politics made a glorious return to the mainstream with Corbyn their left-wing Jesus Christ, or the day that the Labour Party disappeared up its own backside and ate itself from the gizzards out. Tory hardliners have thrown parties hailing the end of any credible opposition for years to come and blue-nosing tabloids have kicked their scathing headline pun machines into overdrive (‘Who’s in the CorBIN?’ – Good one, The Sun!). Meanwhile, liberals the country over have been veritably flooding social media with their digital tears of joy.

However, Clefton Moss, a Web Developer from Hemel Hempstead, has courted controversy among colleagues by stating that he hadn’t really made up his mind on Corbyn just yet. The conversation took place in a local branch of spiced chicken giant, Nandos while on a work lunch break.

“It started out as an innocent chat about the weekend over the pitta and red pepper dip”, recalled Moss. “The usual topics were covered: weather, football, kids, shopping. But my heart sank as some berk from Finance chugging a neck full of refillable Coke started on about Corbyn. ‘Anyone else drink to the death of Labour on Saturday then?’, he said. I mean, what kind of cocksure moron opens a new conversation topic with a deliberately incendiary statement like that?”.

Clefton felt the ripples of discomfort lap around the table as people gradually gave their input. Soon, polarised opinions were stacking up and as it came to his turn to spout on the matter, he felt nervous because no one had yet shared his view. “I don’t really know yet. I mean, it’s such a massive shift in the landscape for Labour, it’s a bit too early, don’t you think?”, Moss admitted. Looking up and seeing his colleagues’ faces agog at his statement, he quickly added, “too early for this Extra Extra Hot black label sauce, am I right?!”. The wrangling quickly turned to how someone could have formed no extreme opinion of Corbyn after nearly a whole week in leadership.

Just as the conversation was bubbling over, pleasantries were forcibly resumed with the arrival of the mains. “I thought it was over when my butterfly chicken breast – lemon and herb – with piri-piri chips and a side order of coleslaw arrived”, the solemn Moss said wistfully. But the pleasantries were short-lived. Finance berk flogged the Corbyn horse till it was bloody and lame and as his co-workers bickered over the issue, Moss mumbled – by this point to himself – “Well, I like that he has a dedicated minister for mental health and I agree with his tough stance on stemming Corporation Tax avoidance, but I don’t see how they can fund all their ideas on Corp. Tax alone. They need at least a year in opposition as a shadow cabinet to flesh out their policies for me to be able to make a decent judgement”.

Clefton’s colleagues were disgusted. Helen Highwater, an HR Administrator, raged, “How can you have not made up your mind about a man who looks like a homeless Obi-Wan Kenobi, is friends with terrorists and doesn’t even sing the national anthem?! I don’t know if I can work in the same building with someone who hates our Queen.”

Byron Beardsworth-Specks, a well-known liberal reactionary douche working in Sustainability, pondered how Moss expected politics in this country to go on if another privileged, well-educated, moderate leader had been elected. “I mean, he attended private Prep and boarding schools but only got two A-levels, and both were Es. He didn’t even finish University! He’s one of us!”.

Even the waitress serving the group (known only by her Nandos-approved name, Andreia Ribeiro Nunes Moreno Pereira) had her say. “Corbyn’s going to ruin this country. He’ll probably outlaw Nandos and make me redundant, the vegetarian bastard. I think that Mossy Cleft fella’s got a nerve coming in here and spreading horrible middle-of-the-road observations about him. Plus, lemon and herb chicken but piri-piri chips? Wanker.”

Following a crushing 3-1 defeat, Jose Mourinho remained calm in his post-match press conference at Goodison Park yesterday safe in the knowledge that Chelsea’s next fixture is at home to London rivals Arsenal. His confidence shone despite the fact that his faltering side have had an utterly abject start to the 15/16 season, picking up a paltry 4 points from their first 5 games and languishing just above the relegation zone.

“It is a chance for my squad to get a little bit of a break when we play Arsenal”, opined the Portuguese manager. “Honestly, I can do any kind of drills I want in training this week. In fact on Tuesday I might just get Nemanja Matic to hold Pedro at arm’s length while he swipes at his midriff and have the squad watch that for an hour. Then it’ll be off to the Taj for a curry.”

Arsene Wenger’s failure to ever beat Jose Mourinho (save for this season’s Community Shield, but… come on) has become something of a millstone around his neck and by now the Frenchman must be well and truly acquainted with the inside of Mourinho’s back pocket. A paparazzi reporter even published an article back in 2013 claiming the below image to depict the Arsenal boss ritualistically burning an effigy of Mourinho in his back garden upon hearing that he would once again have to cross swords with his nemesis:

Although unsubstantiated, the report is nonetheless believable given Wenger’s total ineptitude against Mourinho. The Blues manager, however, remains nonchalant.

“In the early days I used to prepare properly for Arsenal. But I soon realised that with these two teams, it is a bit like a fly versus a window. Does a window have to prepare itself for an insect continually charging head-first into it? Of course not. It just sits there knowing the fly cannot harm it and that if the fly hits it hard enough, it might die. So we will be the window; transparent, unmoving, solid, predictable. And Arsenal will be the fly; dumb, nervous, oblivious to the fact that there is an open door right next to the window.”

On his team selection, The Special One revealed, “We have Begovic in goal because Courtois is out, but frankly I could play Eva Carneiro in goal. She’s probably a better keeper than she is a doct-“. Sadly Chelsea’s Press Officer called a halt to proceedings at that juncture leaving rows of dumbfounded sports hacks to only imagine what his closing point was going to be. No doubt it would have sent still more daggers into Wenger’s heart.

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A Vehicle Activated Sign (VAS) in the quaint countryside thoroughfare of Bissington Brinkwell has announced plans to ‘just give up’ following a long, unsuccessful campaign against unruly traffic.

The village is situated on the A58008, equidistant between the affluent towns of Shuntbridge and Penisham. In recent years, the constant flow of what local councillor Cyrill Spiffing described as ‘twats in phallic sports cars’ through the rural idyll resulted in a vote favouring the introduction of traffic control measures.

The sign, named Hamish Skeleton, was tasked with gently reminding motorists of the 30 MPH speed limit upon entering the village

“I got into this industry because I wanted to make a difference”, he explained. “My parents owned a pet squirrel when I was younger which was flattened by a careless driver doing 33 MPH. They were never the same again after that and I thought to myself, if I can prevent just one family from having to bear that same pain, I will die a fulfilled man”.

However, Hamish has suffered only indifference and negativity from drivers since his job began. “I just don’t know why I bother”, huffed the exasperated Skeleton. “Sundays are the worst. I hear their stupid motors from miles off and as soon as they come roaring round the corner I flash my lights and display my sad face to illustrate how their behaviour is affecting others, but most just carry on. Some even speed up because there is a long straight after they pass me. It’s just hopeless.”

But as well as being ignored, Hamish has also experienced varying degrees of abuse. “Oh I get fingers all the time. One finger, two fingers, sometimes a clenched fist shaken at me in an intimidating fashion. One summer I had a McDonalds strawberry milkshake splashed on my front fascia. It dried on in the sun and became crusty which attracted ants. I had to wait for the September rains to wash it off”.

The hurt speed board added, “One man felt so perturbed by my presence that he actually threw a cup of urine at me. He stopped, got out of his car and threw it in my face. I mean, I’m built to be water proof to resist the weather, but you can’t water proof my feelings. At least he slowed down I guess. Every cup of piss has a silver lining.”

When asked about his future, Skeleton sighed heavily and admitted, “Enough’s enough. I’m done. Some other chump can try and marshall the conveyor belt of souped-up scrotalists using this horrible road if they want, but I’m out. I didn’t sign up for this shit”. He was so downbeat that even the pun was lost on him.

Simply put, everything about Garth Marenghi’s Darkplace is brilliant. It is one of the most lamentably under-rated shows to come from our fair shores, although the existence of a paltry 6 episodes does allow it to benefit from ‘Fawlty Towers syndrome’ – a very small body of very high quality material.

Part nod to and part-dismantling of eighties horror genres – Stephen King’s ‘oeuvre’ in particular – Darkplace masquerades as a re-run (it enjoyed a brief spell in Peru) of a chilling hospital-based television drama about ‘maverick’ doctor Rick Dagless M.D, his best buddy Dr. Lucien Sanchez, their ball-busting boss Thornton Reed (who, in turn, must answer to the mythical Wonton) and the team’s newest addition, psychic medium and woman, Liz Asher. After the opening of a portal to ‘another dimension’ in the first episode, Rick Dagless and his definitively archetypical supporting cast must battle against the forces of evil, curses, creeping moss, the Scottish, an anthropomorphised eyeball, apes, broccoli and the unpredictable nature of womanhood, as well as dealing with the burden of day-to-day admin.

On its surface, Darkplace is obviously and unashamedly ridiculous – as indeed is the entire point and crux of the comedy. But peeling back the layers, it really is very cleverly put together. The most ingenious ingredient is that all the actors play two characters, not just one. Co-creator Matt Holness plays Garth Marenghi, who in turn is the creator of the titular show-within-a-show and plays – within that show – Dr. Rick Dagless M.D. This is so that another clever device can be utilised which creates a whole extra level to the characterisation, namely the interviews with the cast members. These interviews are interspersed between the clips of the program, sending up the pomposity and self-sycophancy of tribute and ‘list’ shows of recent years. In them we get to peek at the motivations and personalities of the actors themselves, as well as those of the characters they portray. Just to watch Dr. Rick Dagless et al would be funny enough, but viewing his performance through the filter of Garth Marenghi’s burgeoning arrogance, smugness and self-righteousness which we gain through his interviews makes every single thing he does even funnier.

Likewise, the other co-creator and now household name Richard Ayoade plays Dean Learner, who in turn plays Thornton Reed. Running through his interviews is a very persistant but subtle hinting at an extremely dark side to Learner which is a fantastic addition to his character. As he regales us with stories of crew members mysteriously dying with an unnerving familiarity and coldness, it is a triumph of both the writing and Ayoade’s delivery that his complicity in these events is heavily implied without ever really saying it.

There are no interviews with Madeline Wool who plays Liz Asher (both played by the real-life Alice Lowe). In part, this fuels the overt and very deliberate sexism in the show (Liz Asher is only ever spoken about in terms of stereotypical femininity and her actions judged based on her ‘irrational, female nature’ – upon being hired by Rick, “Alright. I’ll pay you though. It’ll make it bona-fide and you could probably use the extra money for clothes and make-up”), again a caricaturisation of similar traits running throughout the television and attitudes of ‘yesteryear’. However, dark undercurrents once again emerge from Dean Learner when talking about her ‘sudden disappearance’ after filming (“Missing, presumed dead. Emphasis heavily on dead”).

And of course there is Matt Berry, the man with the voice of velvet who can say almost anything and make it sound amazing. He plays actor Todd Rivers, who plays Dr. Lucien Sanchez in Darkplace.

Darkplace is also notable for its cameos including Father Ted and I.T Crowd writer Graham Linehan, co-writer of The Office and Extras (both of which appear on this run-down) Stephen Merchant and The Mighty Boosh’s Noel Fielding and Julian Barratt. Barratt has a recurring cameo as the ‘Padre’ (or ‘vicar’ to you and me) and probably has the greatest ratio of quality lines of any character in this whole list. “You’ll know what to do. You’re the most sensitive man I know. And I know God“.

In the absence of a second series, the guys really pulled out the stops for the DVD release, which itself was a long time coming. The commentary to the episodes alone – all performed in character as Garth Marenghi, Dean Learner and Todd Rivers – is like gaining another 6 episodes for the hilarious back-stories and production yarns it throws up. There is also a full length version of Todd Rivers’ hit ‘One Track Lover’, as well as an extensive collection of other ‘Additionata’. Get it.

Each episode begins with a brilliant snippet from Garth Marenghi’s extensive canon of chillers, read poetically by Garth Marenghi himself adding in all the appropriate inflections and emphasis so that you can properly understand his work. I’ll leave you, traveller, with one of his finest. And I’ll let One Track Lover speak, sing and rap for itself.

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Arsenal fans’ ire tomorrow should not be aimed at Robin van Persie. I really can’t quite see why so many hate him so much. Ok, the “little boy inside” speech was stupid and he should have known that a move to United would piss of all his former admirers, but still. This is professional football. You are naïve if you think loyalty is still widespread.

He spent 8 years at Arsenal – longer than most players spend at one club. During those 8 years, he won a solitary FA cup in his first season and then watched all our best players leave one by one, replaced by poor man’s versions of their predecessors. He saw what the fans saw – a ship sinking itself. One season at United and he wins them the title. This is what RvP can do with a better squad around him. He was fed up like us, and he was right. We should thank him for his services (he more than earned us Champions League football last season), his wonderful goals and for helping to illustrate further the shortcomings of the board’s financial prudence.

United have deserved the title this season and we should honour the tradition of congratulating them, an honour they have afforded us in the past. If I could afford a disgustingly expensive ticket to tomorrow’s game, I would applaud them onto the field. The fans’ contempt should be directed at their own club and the way it is run, questioning not why RvP chose to go to United but why the club agreed to sell our best asset to a team they laughably still pretend they are ‘competing with’. Oh yes, it was for ‘footballing reasons’… Perhaps they should ask once again for some truly world class signings and for the powers that be to spend some of that cash they are so proud to laud around at our ‘poorly run’ and highly successful rivals.

My, my this top 3 was hard to place. It illustrates how much I love each of these shows how wrong it feels that Spaced, Simon Pegg and Jessica Hynes’s sitcom about an amiable bunch of twenty-somethings struggling to come to terms with adulthood, is only 3rd. I am sorry. In fact, I might tie all of these top 3 in 1st. No, that’s just wussing out…

Tim Bisley (Simon Pegg) and Daisy Steiner (Jessica Hynes) are two strange strangers brought together by the common interest of house-hunting in London. Lying about being a couple (the ad said ‘professional couple only’ thanks to an error by cameo performer Ricky Gervais), they manage to secure a flat in Meteor Street from their nosey new land lady, Marsha (Julia Deakin). Here they meet their new neighbour Brian (Mark Heap), a (probably) insane contemporary artist, whose favourite topics are… well, you know what they are. Just not watercolours. Throw into the mix Tim’s best friend Mike (Nick Frost), a military-minded, gun-toting, rough-rambling maniac (and fan of Eddie Murphy), Twist (Katy Carmichael), Daisy’s best friend and incorrigible fashion bitch, and Colin (Aida – may she rest inn peace), Daisy’s Miniature Schnauzer and part-time Elizabethan dancer and there you have it.

Pegg and Hynes have said numerous times that the characters in Spaced were based on real people and this is why they work so well together. Spaced is essentially, for anyone who grew up a geek in the 80s or 90s, a show about yourself and the weirdos you called your friends. Having been raised in an age of television, movies and the internet, people of this generation have pop culture indelibly imprinted on their everyday psyche, and this is another thing that the show captures brilliantly. At every given opportunity a pop-culture reference is thrown in to reflect how these familiar characters view the world. Star Wars, The Matrix, Fight Club, Jurassic Park, Pulp Fiction, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, The Shining, Scooby Doo, The Evil Dead – each reference is a joy to behold for anyone who recognises them and is weaved into the prose effortlessly. A show so clever it’s almost as if it’s… self aware…

And then of course there is the on-going ‘will they, won’t they?’ saga of Tim and Daisy which is executed with more care and genuine affection than I’ve seen in any other production.

Simon Pegg has since moved very much onto the big screen with Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz (certainly to my mind his third best film), Star Trek, Paul et al. Jessica Hynes has stuck mainly to television, although periodical forays into cinema have seen her pop up in Son of Rambow, Bridget Jones 2 and even providing a voice for Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Neither, however, have ever reached the heights of the show which kick-started their careers back in 1999. It is an absolute classic and the referencing of other films, TV shows and games which are also classics will ensure that the comedy remains timeless. In short, I absolutely love everything about this show. I love it like a best friend, someone I can always rely on to make me feel better. Putting it on is like turning on my childhood. Or at least my teens. Well, maybe my early 20s…